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The Alarm Disarmed This Arm

Ahh! Why can’t I feel my arm! Poke, poke, hello arm, it’s me. Oh god, I can’t even feel it. I’ve been in the cold before and gone numb, but this is ridiculous. What was I dreaming about? When did I wake up? Oh god, am I still dreaming? I’ve seen Inception, but I can’t spin my little motif on the counter top because my arm’s asleep! That’s dumb. I’m obviously awake. I don’t think this hard when I dream, do I? …Do I? thinking is hard; takes time–like homework and mountain climbing. Then this must be a nightmare.

Maybe my arm is still dreaming. Maybe in my dreams my arm had a mind of its own and refused to stop. It’s the stronger of my two arms, that’s entirely possible… in my dreams! HA! Okay, I’m making bad jokes; I’m definitely awake. What to do, what do? What time is it? Still bed time I presume. Maybe I should make my other arm fall asleep. That’s a legit excuse for skipping work. “Sorry, boss, it took me an hour to call ‘cause I had to dial with my nose, because my arms fell asleep.”

“Both of them?”

“Yeah. Crazy, right?”

“Yeah, I hate when that happens. You can have the day off.” he says. You know what? I think I’ll actually try that.